


Plus Ca Change, Plus C'est La Même Chose

by nekojita



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon typical drug use, Canon-Typical Violence, Edgar Allan Ravens, M/M, Neil as Nathaniel, Neil's mouth is unleashed here, Raven Neil Josten, exyordeathzine2k17, pre-andreil?, violence against tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2019-02-01 10:25:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12703047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nekojita/pseuds/nekojita
Summary: Nathaniel has spent the last eight years at Evermore, eight years rebelling against Riko and the idea of the Perfect Court, eight years standing between the Moriyamas and Jean Moreau. Now Nathaniel and Jean are following in Kevin Day's footsteps and leaving Edgar Allan/Evermore behind to join the Palmetto State Foxes. Kevin is eager to welcome two talented Exy players and former teammates onto a team which badly needs them, but Andrew? Andrew suspects that there's more to their arrival than the two are willing to reveal - and he takes his promises seriously.Another contribution to the amazing ExyorDeath zine (and then some...).





	Plus Ca Change, Plus C'est La Même Chose

**Author's Note:**

> All right, so if you purchased the wonderful ExyorDeath zine, you saw the first part of this story. The thing is... it went WAY past the roughly 5k word count we were supposed to write for our fics (WAY PAST - I mean, WHAT WERE THE ODDS? One of MY FICS??? I need help... *sobs*). The first part of it was put in the zine, but here's the fic in its entirety. 
> 
> Some background on the fic [midreky's gorgeous artwork](https://midreky.tumblr.com/image/163149767695) is a glimpse at the artwork she contributed to the zine and what I based the story around. The first part is a young Nathaniel erasing and redoing the numbers (pre-tattoo) on his and Kevin's faces, and the second part is Nicky calling Andrew to watch a press conference where 'current' day Nathaniel and Jean announce they've left the Ravens, leaving Nicky to speculate they might have some new players and Andrew to comment 'interesting'....
> 
> *******

*******

Nathaniel scowled down at the court while he pushed the cleaning cloth in front of him, his back already aching as he bent almost in half to press the cloth against the hard surface and moved at a quick pace learned from months of practice, of Tetsuji punishing him with the lowly task.

His back ached, but not as much as his left cheek where Riko had scrubbed it almost raw upon seeing the ‘1’ drawn upon it, and slapped Nathaniel so hard that his neck hurt as well from his head being knocked aside. Kevin had ‘warned’ him, had said that Riko would be upset… but Nathaniel didn’t care. He was still right about Riko not being any better than them, than Kevin or Nathaniel or Jean, and it wasn’t right that the brat got that number just because of his uncle. Kevin’s _mother_ had been Kayleigh Day, after all, and as far as Nathaniel was concerned, a mother was much better than an uncle (much better than a father).

But Kayleigh was dead, so he supposed it didn’t matter that she had invented Exy along with Tetsuji Moriyama, especially not when they were in Tetsuji’s stadium, were supposed to play for Tetsuji’s Ravens one day. It still didn’t mean that Riko was better than them, that he was a better striker than Kevin.

His own father didn’t want him, so he wasn’t that important, was he? He wasn’t off with Ichirou in New York City… but Nathaniel had been punished with more than cleaning the court when he’d mentioned that, and it was only because of his mother that he’d gotten off with just a beating so he wouldn’t bring it up again.

Riko knew that _he_ knew it, though, knew he thought that Riko wasn’t special at all, so Nathaniel would probably be stuck cleaning the court for the near future, just like he would look for ways to prove that Riko wasn’t #1.

It wasn’t that Nathaniel cared about being ‘3’, it was that he refused to fall in line behind a brat like Riko.

He’d gotten about a fourth of the court cleaned when Jean came out with a cloth in his hands. “ _You’re not in trouble for once_ ,” Nathaniel called out in French, grateful that his mother had taught the language to him back in Baltimore as something to do as a distraction in that awful house. “ _Go back inside_.”

Jean shook his head, his fine black bangs flopping onto his pale face which still bore a mark from where Riko had slapped him as well. “ _We’re partners, remember_?”

“ _But I was the one who changed the numbers_ ,” Nathaniel argued. He’d shouldered the blame, had told Riko and Tetsuji it had been all his idea, which was the truth; Kevin wouldn’t ever disobey Tetsuji and always went along with Riko, had only allowed Nathaniel to do it because he was too meek to fight, while Jean had stood watch but refused to let him touch his ‘4’. Considering how Riko took delight in punishing Jean, Nathaniel hadn’t pushed his friend. “ _This is on me_.”

“ _It’ll be done faster if we both work on it_ ,” Jean said as he walked past Nathaniel – only to stop when Nathaniel snagged the sleeve of his black Raven’s t-shirt. “ _I should watch after you better and make sure you don’t give in to such impulsive actions. This is a lesson to us both_.”

“ _I’m not letting them win_.” Nathaniel glared at his friend, at the way that the fight seemed to go out of Jean at times. “ _I’m not just going to accept the limits they put on me_.” His mother had risked her life to turn the tables on Nathaniel’s father, to keep him from being little more than chattel, and he couldn’t do anything less than follow her example, than to prove that he was indeed a Hatford and not a Wesninski.

“ _So stubborn_ ,” Jean complained, yet there was a hint of a smile on his face. “ _You may yet win if only because you will drive them all mad with that attitude_.”

“ _My mother told me it doesn’t matter how you win, as long as you do in the end_.” Nathaniel let go of his friend’s sleeve. “ _I will, you’ll see. I’ll get out of here one day – I’ll get both of us out of here_.” There was more to life than Evermore, and he’d prove it to Jean.

Disbelief was evident on Jean’s face for a few seconds, only to be wiped away by something more guarded. “Come on, we need to clean this and go to bed.”

Nathaniel let him change the topic and nodded. “I bet I can clean it faster than you.”

“It is not a race, idiot.” Still, Jean’s jaw was set as he went over to the far side of the court, so Nathaniel knew that the challenge had been accepted.

As he bent over again and pushed the cloth forward with his hands, he promised himself that whatever it took, Riko and Tetsuji wouldn’t get their way with everything.

*******

“There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Nathaniel gritted his teeth together to hold the scream trapped in his throat, his sight hampered by the spots dancing before his eyes as his left cheek throbbed in agony. Riko’s fingers tightened on his chin, a counterpoint to the rawness of the new burn, and a flash of light made him think that the bastard was going to press the heated blade to his face again, was going to burn away more than the ‘3’ tattoo….

Before Nathaniel could flinch once again, Riko let go – no, more like pushed him away as if disgusted by the feel of his flesh. “ _Now you’re nothing, you’re less than nothing. Is that what you wanted, Hatford_?”

Caught by Jean’s warm, steady hands, Nathaniel forced his ravaged face into a grin despite the pain. “ _I’d rather be **nothing** than be yours_ ,” he responded in Japanese as well, as always quick to taunt Riko, to push back despite the fact that the bastard held a knife in his right hand, that Riko had just hurt him.

Riko had only hurt him because _he’d_ allowed it, because it would be the last time Riko could ever hurt either of them.

For a moment it looked as if Riko would slash him with that knife, would react to the verbal jab, but Tetsuji (for fucking _once_ ), stepped forward. “Per the agreement, you are no longer Ravens,” he informed Nathaniel and Jean in a cold tone (did the man have any other? Maybe shock was setting in…) as he motioned to the door behind them. “You have an hour to pack your things.”

“Already done,” Jean answered for them as he gave the old prick a slight bow, some habits difficult to break.

Nathaniel barely resisted the urge to waggle his fingers at the bastards (it was definitely shock, but there was a car waiting for them outside so the wound could be tended to soon enough), so Jean didn’t waste any time dragging him out of Tetsuji’s office, past the stunned stares of their fellow (former) Ravens to their (former) room to grab the two black duffel bags holding their few belongings. Then it was back down the black walled hallways while Nathaniel’s teeth began to chatter and he slumped even more against his partner, the entire left side of his face on fire, and finally, _finally_ they were outside of the Nest, were out of Castle Evermore.

Declan was waiting for them in the parking lot, was leaning against a dark grey BMW sedan while dressed in faded jeans and an expensive suit jacket (Mary would kill him for the jeans, but she didn’t need to know about them), the smile on his broad, ruddy face fading as soon as he caught sight of Nathaniel. “Fuck me, that looks nasty.”

“Get out of here first, then we’ll deal with it,” Jean snapped as he threw the bags at the young Hatford bodyguard/enforcer before flinging open the back door to the car so Nathaniel could crawl inside.

“I thought-“

“Riko,” Jean hissed as he braced one arm across Nathaniel’s chest and combed back the bangs clinging to his sweat covered forehead. “ _Are you all right? Just breathe_.”

Nathaniel focused on his partner’s soft voice, on his gentle touch, just like he’d done over the years to get him through the exhaustion and pain and nightmares. After a couple of seconds, the urge to throw up went away and he could open his eyes. “It’s fine.”

“Liar,” Jean said, but he smiled a little and put on Nathaniel’s seat belt first then his own.

“Uhm… Nate?” Declan glanced back in the rearview mirror. “Hospital or safe house?”

“Safe house.” Just talking hurt, but it wasn’t that bad, not really. Riko had limited the damage to the tattoo, for once reined in by his uncle.

“You going to tell me what happened?”

“Riko decided that he wouldn’t let us go while Nat still bore his tattoo,” Jean explained while he continued to comb his fingers through Nathaniel’s hair in a soothing gesture. “It was that or… well, he was going to get his pound of flesh one way or another.” When his fingers took to trembling, Nathaniel reached out to tug on his friend’s long bangs.

“I always hated the thing, it’s not a big deal.” There was no way he would have allowed Riko to hurt Jean anymore.

Declan cursed for a couple of seconds. “People aren’t going to be happy about that.” Then he chuckled, the sound low and unamused. “But what the hell, I’m across the ocean from most of ‘em.”

“An optimist, how disgusting,” Jean complained as he continued to stroke along Nathaniel’s head. “This day keeps getting worse and worse.”

Declan laughed at that while Nathaniel smiled and closed his eyes, content to focus on Jean’s fingers in his hair and the low hum of the car’s engine, on the fact that they were out of the Nest at last. The loss of his tattoo was only part of the price to pay for that freedom, but for a few days at least, they could rest, could heal and regroup and then figure out what they needed to do to bring down Evermore.

*******

Andrew had bided his time since the news conference where the two young men had declared themselves no longer bound to Edgar Allan, had put up with Kevin wavering between excitement and near panic as he avoided the reporters wanting his take on Moreau’s and Hatford’s ‘defection’, the arguments with Wymack as they drafted the letter offering two contracts from Palmetto State since neither of the backliners could be reached in person (a wise move, considering the little ‘bomb’ their announcement had set off).

Now he wanted answers, so once it was clear that Abby was off with Bee for a few hours, he’d told Aaron and Nicky to fuck off for a while, too, so he could have some ‘quality’ time with a certain striker who must have swiped some alcohol from Wymack’s apartment and decided not to share with the rest of them.

Ah well, it would help make the coward more loquacious in the end, so Andrew allowed him the crutch – that and Andrew had his own bottle of whiskey stashed aside.

Feeling the tug of his meds’ damn ‘leash’ and wanting to have the ‘discussion’ before he was required to take another dose, Andrew leaned against the doorway of the den, effectively trapping Kevin in the room where he was watching a rerun of an Exy game – the Sirens against the Falcons. “Oh, am I interrupting some important personal time? Need me to give you five minutes and some lotion?”

Kevin gazed at him in confusion until the announcer called out Muldani’s name and then flushed in embarrassment. “That’s… it’s not… go away,” he settled on as he slumped back in the lounger and had some more vodka.

“Not happening until you tell me why you want Hatford and Moreau on this team so badly.” Andrew crossed his arms over his chest and tapped his fingers against the blades sheathed inside the bands around his forearms. “I thought we were the Foxes, not the Ravens’ Rejects.”

“Not this again.” For several seconds Kevin turned up the volume, but when Andrew continued to stand there, he sighed and muted the game. “Look, we’re down to ten players now, and half of them aren’t very good. Gordon is a mess and can’t focus on the game, Nicky shouldn’t have been offered a scholarship in the first place, Aaron isn’t that bad but he’s not that great, either, and most of the time he doesn’t care about the game. And now with Smalls out for the season, we’re stuck with Bartok, who’s sub material at best or she would have been recruited already.” He tossed the remote aside and picked up the bottle of vodka as if it were a precious child – now _that_ was an image to post in Exy News. “Nate and Jean are Court worthy, we _need_ them.”

“And yet somehow, they managed to get out of their contracts to Edgar Allan, when Wymack had to buy out yours,” Andrew drawled. “When you told me that Tetsuji owned Moreau, and Kengo Hatford.”

“Yeah, sorta.” Kevin had several swallows of alcohol before he continued. “I mean… it’s confusing, really. I would guess that Nate’s mother bought them out? She should have the money, and Nate always stepped in for Jean.” He winced at that for some reason. “It’s part of why the two of them never got along, why Riko- maybe he did something to make Mary step in and get them out of there.”

Oh, something like break a person’s hand? Yet other than that new burn mark on Hatford’s left cheek, both of the young men had looked all right to Andrew (had looked perfectly fine, in fact, especially a certain redhead with intense blue eyes and a defiant expression). “It’s more than a little suspicious, don’t you think?”

Kevin frowned before he shook his head. “What, you think they’re _lying_? But Nate’s tattoo is _gone_.” He sounded like that was a fate worse than death, losing the stupid Raven stamp, and even cupped his ‘2’ with his scarred hand as if to hide it away from harm. “Besides, Nate wouldn’t work with Riko like that, he lived for telling him ‘no’.” That sad expression returned as the drunk raised the bottle to his lips. “Didn’t matter how much Riko hurt him, he always did the opposite of what he should.”

Andrew stilled at that comment, at that ‘hurt him’. He observed the broken wreck in front of him, the supposed Exy prodigy who had to drink himself into a stupor more nights than not, all because of what had happened at Castle Evermore. “Riko broke you, couldn’t he have broken Hatford?” The too pretty boy with the intense eyes? The boy who was supposed to start playing for the best team in the NCAA Class I division that fall, not one of the worst?

“Riko didn’t….” Kevin couldn’t deny that Riko had damaged him, possibly beyond repair (or else why crawl all the way to the Foxes, to the team of rejects and losers, the broken and busted?). He had to have _Andrew_ on hand at all times to prop him up, which was a sign of being fucked up beyond belief. “Nate didn’t break.” He closed his eyes and shuddered for some reason. “Nate’s not that weak.”

Oh, did someone have a story to tell? “You sound so certain.” Andrew had plenty of evidence on how people could break, after all. One only needed the proper leverage.

Bleary green eyes stared at Andrew before Kevin had more vodka. “I am.”

Andrew scoffed at that, at Kevin of all people sounding so sure about something other than Exy. “Well, won’t this be fun putting that certainty to the test?” Because _he_ was certain that they’d have two new teammates soon enough – it was too much of a coincidence that shortly after Kevin had signed on with the Foxes and right after the end of the season that Moreau and Hatford were suddenly available to switch teams as well. Switch teams and cause trouble, to work on Kevin to make him go back to Edgar Allan or worse.

But Kevin had Andrew now, and Andrew wasn’t going to let two Ravens just flap their way in and snatch away the coward as if dirty little magpies filching up something shiny – no matter how pretty one of them might be, no matter how interesting they appeared. Because Andrew had given Kevin his word to keep him safe and Riko from taking him back, and Andrew kept his promises.

Andrew didn’t think Moreau would be too much of a problem, not when he’d been a quiet presence in the couple of games and interviews which Kevin had forced Andrew and the rest of the Foxes to watch. But Hatford? It took a lot of determination (or a lot of restraint) to allow someone to burn their face like that, just to make an act all the more convincing. That and the kid didn’t give off a ‘floor mat’ vibe like Moreau did. _Hatford_ was going to be a challenge. For some reason… Andrew thought he might be looking forward to something for once. Just a little. It should provide a few minutes’ relief from the ongoing boredom. Maybe.

A wave of nausea tore through his musings, causing him to slump against the doorway. “Meds,” he muttered as sweat broke out over his skin, and Kevin only paused for a moment before fumbling to reach into his left pocket for the bottle of pills then throwing it to Andrew.

He almost didn’t catch it, a sign that he’d waited a little too long, then dry swallowed one of them before throwing the damn bottle back at Kevin’s head. Ignoring the yelp of pain from the striker, Andrew went off to have some alcohol of his own, his thoughts revolving around a certain redheaded Raven.

*******

Nathaniel gave Declan a grateful smile for bringing him and Jean their dinner since they couldn’t leave the hotel room and risk being sighted by a Ravens’ fan or the press. “Thanks.”

“Let’s hope he didn’t forget the silverware this time,” Jean complained, but Nathaniel could tell from the way that his partner’s shoulders were a bit rounded that it was more for the sake of complaining than any true annoyance.

“What, you mean you don’t eat that fancy salad with chopsticks?” Declan laughed when Jean gave him a dark look. “Nah, it’s all in there.” Then the bodyguard’s smile faltered as he tapped one of the bags. “Including those smoothies you like so much, Nate.”

All in all, Nathaniel’s left cheek was doing much better, was healing enough that the scar tissue shouldn’t be that bad… but it still hurt to chew so another week or two of protein drinks, smoothies and soups would be best. He knew his mother was livid about the whole thing, her and his uncle, but the pain involved in letting Riko burn off his ‘3’ tattoo had been worth leaving Evermore with Jean at his side in one piece. “Thanks,” he repeated as he toyed with the worn cuffs of his black hoodie.

Upon noticing the guilt in Jean’s grey eyes, Nathanial gave his friend a lop-sided smile. “I bet my smoothie tastes better than that quinoa salad.”

Jean scoffed as their familiar teasing kicked in. “You are still finding ways to avoid vegetables, flammèche, why am I not surprised.” Now the look he gave Declan was one of disapproval, enough so that the stocky, broad-shouldered young man shifted about even as he grinned. “Really, you are enabling him, you know. I bet there’s not even any beets or kale in that pink monstrosity,” he complained as he pointed to Nathaniel’s strawberry-berry yogurt smoothie.

Declan pulled on a confused expression. “Isn’t Cherry Garcia ice cream considered a vegetable?”

“Heathen!”

As Jean berated the two of them on their poor nutritional choices in-between bites of his salad and Nathaniel’s slurps of his smoothie (the whole tirade was a bit nostalgic and bittersweet, and reminded him of Kevin), Nathaniel’s phone rang. The effect on the three of them was immediate – Jean fell silent while Declan jumped to his feet, his expression serious, and Nathaniel set his drink aside as he answered the call, all appetite and semi-good mood gone.

“ _Yes, my lord_?”

“ _A car will be by to pick you up in five minutes_ ,” Ichirou informed him in curt Japanese before hanging up.

Well, that was that. Nathaniel passed on the message and, on the way to grab a non-descript hooded jacket to cover his hair and face, gave Jean’s left shoulder a quick squeeze. “ _It’ll be fine_ ,” he assured his boyfriend and partner in French. “ _It’s what we’ve been waiting for_.”

“ _Be careful_ ,” Jean told him as he poked at his meal without interest.

 Once Nathaniel pulled on the jacket, Declan escorted him outside to the parking lot of the extended stay hotel where they’d gone after leaving Edgar Allan, but didn’t get into the black Lexus sedan waiting for Nathaniel. Once in the car, he nodded in a respectful manner to the Japanese man behind the wheel, and sat quietly in the back as he was driven a few miles away to what looked to be a private house where Ichirou waited for him.

It was located on a few acres and probably was a safe house, decorated enough to make one’s stay manageable but nothing extravagant. Ichirou sat at a plain wooden kitchen table meant for four, where a fine porcelain tea set had been brought out and two cups of green tea had already been poured – one for the young lord-to-be and apparently one for Nathaniel.

“You appear well, Nathaniel,” Ichirou greeted him in English.

“ _Thank you, my lord,”_ Nathaniel said in Japanese while bowing low before switching to English. “You appear well, too.” There was no question that he owed his allegiance to the main branch because of how his mother had stolen five million dollars and him from his father when he was ten, only to run to her family in the UK and then reach out to the head of the Moriyamas to ‘flaunt’ how she had bested her husband, to point out how ineffective the Butcher of Baltimore was and how the Hatfords could serve Kengo just as well if not better. She still had to hand over Nathaniel in the end, but it was agreed upon that he would be property of the main branch and not the secondary, and so had entered Castle Evermore and the Nest under the Hatfords’ protection.

He’d been able to extend that protection to Jean, been able to win his way as well as Jean’s free of the Nest in the last couple of weeks when it became clear that Riko was destroying everything that Tetsuji had set out to create with Evermore – and his uncle wasn’t doing a damn thing to rein in his nephew. Nathaniel was only able to keep Jean and himself safe because of Ichirou. So he considered Ichirou to be _his_ lord.

Ichirou waved aside the pleasantries. “My understanding is that you’ve received some offers to join other teams, yes?”

“Yes, my lord.” At Ichirou’s invitation, Nathaniel sat down at the table and wrapped his hands around the offered cup of tea. “USC and Penn State were expected as they’re Edgar Allan’s main rivals, but most of the top ten teams have made offers as well. It may interest you to know we’ve also received one from Palmetto State.”

“Ah.” Ichirou seemed to consider that as he sipped his own cup of tea. “Do you think it’s from Day or their coach?”

Nathaniel shrugged as he sipped his own tea. “Honestly? It’s difficult to tell. The letter spoke of us joining Day, our former teammate, but it also referenced how the team could be a good fit considering some of our ‘past difficulties’ at Edgar Allan.” A bitter smile twisted Nathaniel’s lips then at the thought of Kevin spilling secrets, and judging from the slight twitch of Ichirou’s elegant fingers, his lord didn’t appreciate it either. “I hadn’t responded yet.”

“Yet.” Ichirou had another sip of tea before he nodded. “Wait another day and then reach out to the coach.”

“ _Yes, my lord_.” Nathaniel bowed his head once more.

Ichirou finished his tea before he rose to his feet. “I want it done by the end of the next season,” he instructed, his expression placid but a familiar hardness in his narrowed eyes. “Give me what I need to tear Evermore apart, including Riko.”

“ _It will be as you ask, my lord,”_ Nathaniel swore as he met Ichirou’s gaze, which prompted a pleased smile from the young man.

“ _Not a Butcher, but a weapon all the same_ ,” Ichirou murmured as he came around to lift Nathaniel’s chin and skimmed his fingers around the healing burn. “ ** _My_** _weapon, my blade, and Riko will pay for besmirching you_.” He tapped those fingers below the burn then let go. “Finish your tea before you leave,” he said as he walked away.

As always, Nathaniel followed orders (well, when it came to Ichirou, at least), and was returned to the hotel soon enough. Jean wasn’t surprised to know that they were to go to Palmetto State (it would be too easy for them to leave behind everything to do with Evermore, after all), but in a way… in a way, Jean owed Riko for a lot of pain and scars and nightmares. Nathaniel had stepped in where he could and when, but it had taken some time before he could wrestle Jean free.

There was only so much protection Nathaniel could provide for the both of them when they were stuck in the Nest, in the end.

They both looked forward to carrying out Ichirou’s plan, of robbing Tetsuji of his power and Riko of… well, _everything_.

But first, they had to become Foxes.

*******

Andrew watched from his position against the far wall in the lounge while Wymack and Kevin showed Hatford and Moreau around as part of the whole ‘this is what you get when you sign the papers’; he was against about the whole Raven charity thing they had going on, about signing two more broken birdies despite the shiny patch of healing skin on Hatford’s left cheek and the wary way that Moreau took in everything. Despite Kevin’s assurances that Hatford had never gone along with any plan of Riko’s and that Moreau was loyal to the kid… something was going on.

“So that’s the tour, basically,” Wymack told the two young men, both of them dressed in black like Kevin, both of them pale as if unused to the sun but Hatford possessing that bright red hair which stood out like a beacon. He was also a little more animated with his emotions – not much, just when compared to his dour companion (Kevin said that Moreau was referred to as Hatford’s ‘shadow’ in the Nest). At the moment, there was a slight bit of contempt on the kid’s attractive face.

“Well, I can’t say I’m impressed,” Hatford drawled, which made Kevin’s face become flushed and Wymack’s to grow blank. “Instead of the shower stalls and doors you could have spent the money on soaking tubs or some private work-out equipment or a few other improvements, and the surface of that track is-“

“It’s not Evermore,” Kevin cut in with a hoarse voice as he pulled himself upright as if to tower over the short backliner. Not a difficult thing to do, considering how small the mouthy little shit was, really.

“It’s not even UConn,” Hatford said with a sneer, clearly refusing to be cowed or shamed. Hmm, perhaps Kevin was right about one or two things. Perhaps.

“And yet you’re here,” Wymack pointed out, for once saying something of value as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Despite the subpar conditions and all.”

Hatford gave him a sliver of a smile. “That might be going too far, but sure, we’ll agree with the ‘subpar’ thing at least for the moment.” Behind him, Moreau sighed and murmured something in French while a muscle in Wymack’s jaw twitched and his fingers clenched into fists at the slight to his beloved Exy program. Kevin… Kevin didn’t seem too surprised, so Andrew took it to mean that Hatford usually was this much of a smart-ass. “But you are right on that we’re here about joining your pathetic Foxes.”

“Kid, do you understand how this whole ‘joining a team’ thing works?” Wymack asked, his tone a bit incredulous even as he glowered at the redhead – a redhead who had kept himself out of the man’s reach the entire time he’d been on campus. Interesting.

Andrew was beginning to understand why Kevin hadn’t wanted Wilds to return early for this little… hmm, ‘cluster fuck’ came to mind. If Hatford was here for some clever scheme of Riko’s, he obviously was intent on driving Wymack crazy before he ran off with Kevin. Andrew might let him do some damage before he stepped in to knife the little shit.

Hatford gave the coach an almost sweet smile, except for the sharp edge it contained. “Better than you think. I know that you only managed to keep your Class I title last season because of the lazy bastard keeping watch on us, and your striker line for this season is a mess because you have one player who’s still recovering from a major injury,” Kevin flinched at that, “another who has some skill but will throw a game with his refusal to work with his teammates or because he got into a senseless fight, and a second string at best freshman you had to draft at the last minute. I’m not even getting into it with the rest of the team.”

Not that Andrew cared about the ‘lazy bastard’ comment (it was true and he’d heard so much worse), he just decided to speak up because he wanted an answer. “So why bother joining us when you can sign with any other team?”

That earned him an even sharper smile. “Because I spent eight years suffering Riko Moriyama, and now I’d like to cause him some trouble,” the kid admitted. “Because it’ll be a challenge, working with a fucked-up mess of a team like the Foxes where I have to push myself.” The smile faded away as he glanced behind at Moreau. “I’ve done _nothing_ but prove myself for the last eight years, I’m not going to let anyone say that I landed a spot on a high-ranked team because of some stupid number and what basically was a made-up clique.”

Now Wymack looked at the kid with approval while Kevin nodded in agreement. “It’s why… why I came here,” Kevin said, his voice tight for some reason. “I’m going to drag the Foxes up through the ranks one way or another and I can do it that much faster with you and Jean by my side. You might even be able to help with the striker situation, Nate, you’re quick and adaptable.”

Hatford shrugged at that while he gazed around once more. “Whatever. Now, what about the contracts?”

That led to everyone going into Wymack’s office, where the man went over the standard contract with the two young men – five years for Hatford, three for Moreau. Technically both were to be backliners, but Kevin argued that Hatford could be trained as a sub striker since he had that potential, and with five backliners on the team, they could use a spare striker (never mind that with the new additions, they only really had three good backliners now).

“We can give it a try over the summer,” Hatford relented in with due caution – he knew Kevin, after all, and obviously hadn’t come to PSU to fail at a new position.

“Summer practice officially starts in about two more weeks, but we’re here training already,” Kevin offered as he motioned to him and Andrew. “Well, _I_ am.”

Hatford and Moreau shared another of their looks for a couple of seconds. “We’re currently staying at a hotel,” Andrew noticed that the kid didn’t mention where, “so it shouldn’t be a problem to come here until the dorms open.”

Moreau spoke up for the first time in a few minutes, other than to ensure that he and Hatford would share a room _alone_ together. “We’re doing this of our own choice, Day.” He gave Kevin a pointed look while speaking.

Kevin frowned upon hearing that, while Hatford nodded and Wymack gave the striker a narrow look as he put away the signed contracts. “He’s not the captain of the team nor is he the coach,” he told the Foxes’ newest players while Kevin appeared affronted at the moment. “Work out whatever issues you three have before the season starts, okay?”

A mocking grin came over Hatford’s face (still too pretty despite the healing burn) as he said something to Moreau in French that made Kevin glower at the two while Moreau snorted in amusement. Before Wymack could ask, Hatford gave a slight tug to his friend’s (were they _just_ friends?) sleeve. “You’re _way_ too optimistic if you think a couple of months is going to be enough time to work through all our issues,” the kid stated while they left. “We’re not even going to be done by the time those contracts are up, most likely.”

Now Moreau appeared in weary agreement as he mumbled something that had Hatford laughing of all things; the sound was warm and a bit dark, and it made something jitter inside of Andrew’s chest, made his attention snap onto the kid like it rarely did on anything else.

Andrew wasn’t sure he liked that effect – no, he was definitely sure he didn’t like that effect, but apparently his opinion didn’t matter because his gaze was drawn to Hatford’s back as the short backliner strolled out of the Foxes’ lounge at Moreau’s side, matching stride despite the fact that Moreau had almost a foot on the kid’s 5’3” height. It was rare in Exy to find another player almost as short as Andrew, but ‘rare’ seemed to sum up Nathaniel Hatford.

There was the fact that he’d grown up in Castle Evermore with Kevin Day, Riko Moriyama and Jean Moreau, that he had been a part of Moriyama’s ridiculous Perfect Court until a few weeks ago, that he’d trained with the Ravens for years and had a guaranteed spot on the Class I team once he entered university. That there wasn’t much known about his family, just vague rumors about his father in Baltimore and his mother busy off in Europe, hence why he’d been left at the Nest.

Kevin had explained some of it once he’d made his deal with Andrew, had explained about how Nathan Wesninski was the Butcher of Baltimore and Mary Hatford helped her brothers run a criminal organization mainly in Europe but went anywhere that Kengo Moriyama told them to go. That Nathaniel’s main purpose was to provide the family with the money from his Exy playing… but he stayed in contact with his mother’s side of the family, and he disappeared for a few days here and there. Andrew thought that an Exy player traveling about might provide good cover for certain things, much like the way that Castle Evermore proved useful to the Moriyamas, so he once again wondered why Nathaniel ‘Nate’ Hatford (and Moreau) were now Foxes instead of signing with the Trojans or Panthers or some other decent team.

Nathaniel Hatford with his biting wit and sharp grins and ice blue eyes, with his pretty face and flame-bright hair and lean, pliant limbs – all of that a package just begging to be unwrapped and-

Andrew didn’t appreciate having something so tempting dangled within reach, something so distracting and dangerous. And Nathaniel Hatford was dangerous.

“He’s not joining you for any night-time practices,” Andrew announced once he and Kevin were in the GS. “Play your stupid game during the day,” when Wymack should be around, “but not at night.”

In the process of putting on his seatbelt, Kevin paused to give him a shocked look. “What? Oh no, _no_ ,” he shouted while Andrew hit the gas. “We finally have some real players on this team, two of the best in the league, and you’re short-timing them? When Nate needs to be on the court if he’s going to have a chance at switching to a striker? _No_!” Kevin hit his right hand against the dashboard as if to emphasis his point.

Andrew shrugged as he shook out a cigarette the same time he pulled out of the parking lot. “He’s a risk, so not happening.”

“Dammit, Andrew! This isn’t a joke!” Kevin tugged at his hair with his left hand and for once didn’t bitch about the smoking. “There isn’t any ‘risk’ – I keep telling you that he wouldn’t go along with anything that Riko’s planning, especially not after what happened to his number! He’s always fought with Riko, always done the opposite of what Riko wanted! He stood up to him for Jean and even for me a couple of times.” He fell quiet as he stared at his scarred left hand. “He had his mother’s people help get me out of the Nest and to the banquet to meet up with you guys.”

Hmm, Kevin had always been vague on that in the past, had only mentioned that he’d gotten some help, though the timing of the revelation was a bit suspicious. “Why do that for you? Why did he and Moreau leave now? Answer me that and I’ll reconsider.”

Kevin was quiet as they drove back to Abby’s house. “Because while I’m not as close to him as I was with Riko, as he’s with Jean… we’re friends,” Kevin admitted. “Or were.” He held up his left hand as if to explain. “He never liked to see anyone hurt in the Nest, he didn’t like Riko at all, to be honest. Nate never talked much about what happened with his father, but he came from Baltimore covered in scars.” Kevin closed his eyes and shivered as if recalling something disturbing while Andrew’s fingers clutched around the steering wheel. “I thought at first that he’d know better than to antagonize Riko, that he’d learn to obey and not talk back… but Nate’s always been stubborn.” The coward gave a sad laugh at that.

No, a coward like Kevin probably wouldn’t get it, wouldn’t get how someone like ‘Nate’ couldn’t back down, could take the pain and abuse if it meant that he’d still be his own person, if it meant that he didn’t give in. “One more question – what’s going on between him and Moreau?” Andrew told himself that he was just trying to figure out where the two young men stood, to work out that relationship so he had all of the necessary information and ignored a faint, contemptuous voice inside his head.

“Uhm… I don’t know.” Kevin picked at a hangnail as he frowned. “I’ve seen them share a bed together to sleep but never more than that. They’re really close, but a lot of Ravens’ partners are.” His face became flushed as he slumped down in the seat even though they were almost at Abby’s. “I mean, not me and Riko, not like that, not anymore, but… they both were kept in the Nest and really only had each other.”

That wasn’t much of an answer and had way too much residual angst for Andrew to care about, but it just meant that he’d have to figure things out for himself. It meant that he’d have to do things the fun and potentially traumatic way – oh, not for _him_. “Then we’re up for a road trip,” he announced as he parked the car in Abby’s driveway. “Once they’re settled in, we’re taking them to Eden’s.”

Kevin waited until they were out of the car to speak up. “What if they don’t want to go?”

“No night-time practices,” Andrew told him with a wide grin, the damn drugs singing through his blood and tugging at the corners of his mouth despite the seriousness of the situation, that Riko might have sent a little toy soldier to fuck things up.

Well, Andrew could fuck things up, too.

*******

Back in their hotel room after leaving the Palmetto State campus, Nathaniel dropped onto the king-sized bed and waited for Jean to stretch out next to him before he called his mother; it would be late evening in London, but she would be expecting the call and hopefully wasn’t busy with work.

“Abram,” she said by way of greeting, just like always. “How did it go?”

“It went well,” he said over the speakerphone so Jean could hear everything. “They signed Jean on as a backliner but Kevin’s pushing me to switch to being a striker.” Though his mother couldn’t see it, he shrugged a little. “The team’s really weak with that position right now so I told him we’ll see how it goes over the summer.”

There was the sound of smoke being blown out on the other end, his mother puffing on her cigarettes as she thought, possibly his uncle Stuart as well if the man was in the room. Nathaniel leaned back against Jean’s thighs as they waited for Mary Hatford to continue, grateful as always for his partner’s comforting presence while Jean rubbed at his tense shoulders.

“It’ll throw the Ravens off, you switching like that, and probably tweak Riko’s nose a good bit, too, having to face you as an equal on the court,” Mary offered; she wasn’t an Exy fan considering what had happened to Nathaniel, but she had sat there on the bleachers during his games when he’d been a child and she knew it well enough because his career was important in the long run.

“Yes, that’s what I’m thinking. I can see Kevin’s logic about me changing things, and it could help us, considering everything.” He was one of the best backliners out there, he knew that it wasn’t just his pride speaking – it was why Tetsuji had wanted him and the skill had been honed by the bastard over the last eight years. But he knew the principals of being a striker and it wasn’t unheard of, for players to switch positions. The hardest part would be learning the new racquet.

“Just as long as you don’t forget why you’re there and your duty,” Mary reminded him, her voice harsh from more than cigarette smoke.

“I won’t.” Nathaniel pressed his left hand to the healing scar on his cheek, could feel an echo of the numerous scars covered by his clothes. “Neither of us will. Riko will be broken by the end of the season, I’ve promised Ichirou that.”

On the other end of the phone it sounded like his uncle muttering something along the lines of ‘takes after you, Mary, he’ll drive the guy barmy in a week, tops,’ followed by a loud yelp.

“Give Ichirou an update,” Mary ordered Nathaniel, “Such a shame you won’t be here for your uncle’s funeral because of training,” there was another pained yelp, “but keep me in the loop.” Her tone turned serious again. “And you’ll have Declan and Geoff around you at all times, do you understand? Or it won’t just be your uncle’s who’s hurting.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Nathaniel wasn’t surprised to find out that his mother was ordering the men to keep watch over them, and couldn’t complain about that fact when Jean appeared relieved.

“I’ll arrange a car for you, too, since you’ll be there a while. Is room and board covered with the scholarships?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Hmm, a car and bank accounts. Jean, make sure that single-minded son of mine doesn’t embarrass us as I imagine there’s no mandatory wardrobe there.”

“Oui, ma’am,” Jean answered with a smile as he tugged at Nathaniel’s black hoodie. “There was already talk of a team sweatshirt, which I shall ensure doesn’t happen.”

“Good boy. Behave, both of you, and work hard.” The line discounted afterward, but Mary Hatford wasn’t the sentimental type – her arranging everything for them like that, making sure they were safe and had what they needed, was her way of showing ‘affection’. After all, she’d faced down Kengo Moriyama and Nathan Wesninski, had risked her life for Nathaniel so he didn’t need any trite words to know that she cared for him. Not when she’d killed for him, would do anything to keep him safe.

Words were meaningless and actions were what mattered, so he called Ichirou and let the man know that they were now Foxes, gave a brief summary of the day’s meeting then set his phone aside when the conversation was finished. Jean lay facing him and reached out to tuck aside his bangs.

“ _You always side with my mother_ ,” Nathaniel complained.

“ _I am neither a fool nor a suicidal idiot_ ,” Jean informed him in a grave manner. “ _And for some reason, I too believe you need to be looked after_.” Then he snorted in what one hoped was amusement. “ _Besides, bright orange_?” He rolled his eyes at that. “ _I understand the need for us to be here and what we’re doing, but no PSU hoodies for you_ ,” he declared while tugging on Nathaniel’s hair.

“ _No team spirit_ ,” Nathaniel told the grump as he snagged Jean’s hand to hold it; after everything in Baltimore and the Nest, there was only one person he felt comfortable being around, felt safe enough to touch and be touched by – that was why he’d do anything for this one person.

“ _No desire to be blinded by the hideousness_ ,” Jean countered as he entwined their fingers together. “ _My fire_.”

“ _I guess there goes getting one for you – would make you stand out too much, my shadow_.” Nathaniel smiled at Jean’s exaggerated expression of horror. “ _In all seriousness, do you think Kevin will be a problem_?” Their old teammate was used to being able to order them around somewhat, second only to Riko – there was how he had all but told Nathaniel about becoming a striker and expecting for his decision to being accepted.

“ _Hmm… somewhat, as old habits are difficult to break. But I noticed how he deferred a lot to Minyard, and how Minyard appeared suspicious of us. That is concerning_.”

Nathaniel nodded in agreement; Andrew Minyard had been mostly quiet that day, but he’d been always watching, always observant and quick to say something negative about Nathaniel and Jean the few times he did speak. All that they knew for certain about the goalkeeper was that he had something to do with Kevin staying at PSU, was protecting Kevin somehow. It was an odd juxtaposition considering that Kevin had complained so much about the young man not too long ago for turning down the chance to play for the Ravens.

At the moment, however, Nathaniel allowed himself a little time to just rest, to be somewhere mostly safe (not the Nest) with Jean beside him, to be somewhere without other people around to bother or hurt them. To have a day where they weren’t being dragged out to push themselves to exhaustion, to suffer through the pain and weariness to play. Oh, he was feeling the itch to get out onto a court with a racquet in his hands, to go running, but he knew enough to enjoy the break for just a short while longer.

The next day they found another extended stay hotel with a room for him and Jean and one for Declan and Geoff close to the PSU campus, and called Wymack to say that they were available for practice starting the following day. That would give the man enough time to make any announcements about their signing (it would be difficult for them to keep sneaking around until the end of August), and Jean dragged Nathaniel to the local mall for some new clothes (the one good thing about being a Raven had been the mandatory black and red clothes).

Nathaniel was eager to get onto the court the next day, to resume playing Exy. He didn’t care if Kevin was waiting for him with a new racquet, if he had to face off against Jean and two other strangers (Andrew Minyard’s family – Aaron Minyard and Nicky Hemmick, both of whom were terrible backliners), while Andrew Minyard stood in the goal with those almost empty hazel eyes of his focused on Nathaniel. He made sure to watch whenever Kevin, Aaron Minyard or Hemmick were near Nathaniel, as if anything would happen to them of all things, and he also seemed to pay too much attention when Nathaniel was off with Jean.

“ _This is getting ridiculous_ ,” Nathaniel complained in French after a couple of hours, when they had stopped for some water. “ _I feel like I should go charging after Kevin with my racquet or something, just to give the grumpy bastard something to crow about_.”

“ _You are too quick to use violence_ ,” Jean chided. “ _Make it look like you put something in his sports drink instead_.”

“ _Why does everyone think you’re the quiet good one_?” Nathaniel mused as he rested his chin on the palm of his right hand while they sat on the benches behind the Plexiglas – down by the drink dispenser, he could notice Andrew Minyard (it was easy to tell the twins apart even without the goalie gear) glancing at him and the slight frown on the young man’s lips.

Jean hummed a little as he reached out to tuck a stray damp curl which had slipped free from the black bandana which Nathaniel had attempted to confine his bangs behind. “ _Because you are a proper terror and make me look good by comparison_.”

“ _I’m being slandered_.”

“ _That doesn’t mean it’s not true_.”

At that point, Kevin came over to them with his usual frown in place. “We’ll finish the day with drills – Nate, you need to work on your aim.”

“Gee, I wonder why, after you gave me a new racquet and all,” Nathaniel said while rolling his eyes. For a moment what he’d teased Jean about became more than a joke, it became a heavy thought, became a burning impulse; once he and Kevin had been children, had been friends who had argued and laughed with each other, had so much in common. Then Riko had turned into a wedge between them, had driven them apart as they’d become RikoandKevin and NathanielandJean. As the Exy world had focused on the first and the latter had done what they’d needed to survive, as Nathaniel had been bond tighter and tighter to Ichirou in order to make sure that he and Jean endured at the Nest – an asset still years away from proving his worth and an owned belonging treated as a punching bag.

Still, Nathaniel had helped Kevin wrap up his shattered hand that night back in December and called on Geoff to drive his old friend south, to take him away from Evermore. Had helped Kevin break free from Edgar Allan and Riko… and set things into motion to bring Riko down. It had cost Nathaniel and Jean in the end, it always seemed to cost them something, but they were so close now. So very close after watching the abusive bastard teeter closer to the edge in the last few months, to hear his plans on how to bring Kevin ‘crawling’ back to the Nest, to break the Foxes.

Nathaniel forced himself to swallow the anger and betrayal he felt, especially when Andrew Minyard stepped in front of Kevin in a protective manner. “Oh, you want to learn, too?” Nathaniel asked in a derisive manner. “Finally do something for once today?”

“Like you’re any challenge for me,” Andrew replied with a slight sneer, his eyes still lacking any true emotion.

The answer made Nathaniel click his tongue. “It’s called getting the basics down first – any Raven has to master certain drills before they move on to the line. I’m learning a few simple things before I decimate that pitiful defense your brother and cousin put up.”

“Hey! We’re not pitiful,” Hemmick shouted.

“’Pitiful’ isn’t strong enough a word,” Jean said with an abundance of disdain.

“He’s right,” Kevin agreed while nodding. “And he’s doing better than I’d hoped. Which is why he needs to come out with us tonight.” That seemed directed toward Minyard.

“No.” Before Nathaniel could ask what that meant or Kevin could argue, Minyard shook his head. “This Friday, he and the Frenchie,” that made Jean arch an eyebrow, “will come with us to Columbia.”

Hemmick appeared a bit nervous about that proclamation while Andrew’s twin’s expression seemed to go deliberately blank, which always was such a positive sign. As for Kevin, he didn’t appear happy yet he also wasn’t arguing – but Nathaniel didn’t know the uptight bastard to ever be happy unless Exy was involved, so….

“’Frenchie’? How clever,” Jean drawled. “We have a poet here, flammèche.”

“Ah, here I thought he was just un roi fainéant,” Nathaniel shot back as he grabbed his helmet while standing up and Kevin choked at the insult. “What’s in Columbia?”

There was a hint of displeasure in Andrew Minyard’s expression as he gazed at the two of them, a rare display of emotion other than those manic smiles or boredom. “Do you practice your little comedy routine when you’re alone together?”

Nathaniel pulled on a wide smile of his own as he wrapped his left arm around Jean’s waist – the bastard was too tall to comfortably drape it over his shoulders when he was standing up. “We’ve better things to do when we’re alone.” Minyard didn’t need to know what, exactly.

“Besides, this one has an atrocious sense of humor,” Jean continued as he tugged on Nathaniel’s bandana. “And you didn’t answer the question.”

Behind them there was a gagging sound – Aaron Minyard, Nathaniel assumed, since he’d heard the other twin complain about Hemmick’s ‘perverted’ behavior during practice. Yet his brother’s eyes narrowed the slightest bit but otherwise didn’t show any revulsion or anger at the little display put on for him, leaving Nathaniel to believe that he didn’t share in his twin’s prejudice.

“There’s a club, and not the comedy type,” Andrew explained with a too bright smile. “Considering how much Kevin drinks, you two should fit right in there.”

“You’d consider wrong,” Nathaniel told him with just as false a smile. “We always felt that he drank enough for three people, so we decided to be those other two in the name of fellowship and save the knife-fights over the vodka.”

Off to the side, Kevin frowned at them. “I don’t see why I’m being dragged into this.”

“ _You never do, do you_?” Jean asked in a condescending tone.

While Nathaniel grinned in delight at his partner and Kevin took to scowling, Andrew tapped the end of his racquet onto the floor. “It’s rude to leave others out of a conversation.”

“Which is why you and your family were speaking German earlier, right?” Nathaniel reminded the asshole. “That was German, right?” He very well knew what language it was, but Andrew didn’t need to know that. It was such fun having a talent for languages and several foreign teammates – and nothing to do but practice Exy and pick up things while stuck in the Nest.

“Eden’s Twilight,” Andrew said with a hint of force as if he wasn’t pleased with Nathaniel’s change of topic. “Friday night, we’ll… hmm.” He frowned as he seemed to think of something. “Do you have a car?”

“Yes,” Jean told him; they would by then. “But why are we going along with this?” he asked as he pulled Nathaniel closer to his side. “Don’t say something ridiculous such as to become friends,” he sneered.

“How about because I’m not letting either of you two lying birdies anywhere near a private practice with Kevin until you come to Columbia,” Andrew told them, the smile now a sharp curve on his face and something bright in his eyes – there was emotion in them, something malicious and suspicious and dangerous, something that was allowed to peek through either as a warning or in an attempt to scare them off.

Well, Nathaniel and Jean had dealt with monsters much more frightening than Andrew Minyard and his family, had dealt with creatures who thrived on nothing but pain and fear and death. Nathaniel and Jean bore the scars, the nightmares, to prove that they had survived (tattered, weary, not quite whole without each other but still alive), so Minyard was _nothing_.

They needed to move forward with the Foxes, needed Kevin to be at least half the striker he’d been before Riko had taken that racquet to his hand, needed to be a threat to the Ravens, so they’d play the wannabe monster’s (what a joke, that nickname) game. With that in mind, after Jean gave a quick squeeze to his waist, Nathaniel stepped aside and put back on his helmet. “Well I guess we have plans for Friday night now. So much for washing my hair.”

Kevin relaxed at that and was quick to flip back down his visor while Nathaniel noticed how Hemmick’s expression became a bit pinched, as if he wasn’t happy about the prospect of clubbing that weekend. Not that he needed any evidence that it wasn’t going to be a fun night out for team bonding and… well, whatever one did at dance clubs, but wasn’t it just lovely to leave Evermore to what one had hoped would be a new beginning (even if he’d come to Palmetto State with the intention of bringing down part of a criminal empire), only to find much of the same backstabbing and bullshit?

“Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose,” Jean murmured as Kevin yelled at everyone that their break-time was over, to finish their drinks and get back into their gear so they could wrap up practice for the day.

Nathaniel sighed as he envisioned explaining to his mother that he’d just agreed to walk into a trap set up by a violent-prone juvenile delinquent sentenced to mandatory mood-altering medication to keep him under control (barely). “ _So, you’ll talk to_ -“

“ ** _No_** ,” Jean said, his tone curt and final. “ _You got us into this, you suffer the consequences_.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Nathaniel muttered as Kevin waved him over to start working on the drills, and wondered if perhaps he could manage a hard enough hit to the head before they returned to the hotel.

*******

Despite himself, Andrew arched an eyebrow at the brand new, black Mercedes-AMG GT C coupe which pulled into the stadium parking lot, where they’d agreed to have Hatford and Moreau meet up before driving to Columbia. Nicky whooped at the sight of the car while Aaron snickered. “The new guys just one-upped you, how does it feel?”

“What a shame when it gets vandalized one night soon,” Andrew said with a wide grin, which made Kevin glare at him.

“No doing anything that’ll get you suspended!”

As if Andrew would get caught, but at that point, the two birdies had gotten out of the car so he didn’t argue with the coward; Moreau had been behind the wheel, which was a surprise because Kevin had said that Hatford was the one with the money.

Both were dressed in black, what a shock – black jeans and ankle boots, Moreau with a loose black silk shirt worn over a tight black tank top which accentuated his pale skin, his straight black bangs falling onto his handsome face and making his pale grey eyes more intense. Hatford wore a long-sleeved black t-shirt, not too tight but clingy enough to hint that the leanness of his build wasn’t just skinniness but hard-won muscles as well. It looked as if he’d attempted to comb back the loose curls of his auburn hair, but some of them were already falling onto that arresting face of his.

The clientele of Eden’s were going to salivate at the sight of the two, but they didn’t seem to care. As Andrew had already noticed, Hatford and Moreau gave the four of them a casual look-over, assessing more for threat than interest, then gravitated back to each other.

Something was going on there, something Andrew hadn’t quite figured out just yet. There had been Hatford’s innuendo earlier, but Andrew wasn’t sure that the two were lovers – at least, were _just_ lovers. There was something too protective about their stances, how one moment Hatford got between everyone and Moreau and the next it was obviously Moreau guarding Hatford. How their quick touches to each other seemed more to assure than provoke passion.

One thing which _was_ obvious was that they needed that assurance, that protection. Both Ravens had acted as if it were nothing, as if it was perfectly normal, to change out in front of Andrew and his group, to reveal bodies covered with scars that had left even Andrew silent for a good minute or two and Nicky with tears in his eyes. Lines and lines of cuts and even burns, some neatly placed, some not, all over Moreau and especially Hatford’s chests and backs and upper thighs.

When Hatford had noticed the stares, he had rolled his eyes and said something in French to Moreau before pulling off the rest of his clothes and laughing while on his way to the showers.

He’d _laughed_.

All Kevin had said was that the scars were from Riko for both of them, and Nathaniel’s father from before he’d arrived at Castle Evermore.

Scars hidden beneath black clothes for the moment, but which Hatford had worn without apparent shame at the Nest (he’d mocked Wymack for the private shower stalls, even). Andrew was beginning to wonder if he’d come across someone as messed up as himself as the armbands itched against his forearms for a couple of seconds.

Oh, Bee in for a _treat_ , wasn’t she?

“I’m in love,” Nicky declared as he approached the GT C. “It’s beautiful!”

“Yes, a rather nice toy for what were two homeless little birdies,” Andrew remarked with a wide grin. “Parting gift from Tetsuji?” Beside him, Kevin flinched upon hearing the ‘Master’s’ name.

Hatford shrugged as he flicked a piece of lint from his black jeans. “From my mother, actually. We needed something to get us around and it’s sort of a graduation present.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Nicky said with a nervous smile as he glanced back and forth between the two Ravens and Andrew. “And, uhm, you even have a cute chauffeur!”

Aaron made a gagging sound while Moreau frowned. “Please, he considers the speed limit a mere suggestion and forgets which side of the road to drive on half the time.”

“What can I say? You know who taught me to drive,” Hatford said with a small, satisfied smile.

“A fine gang of lunatics,” Moreau snapped as he folded his arms over his chest. “Are we leaving or what?” That was directed to Andrew.

“Yes, let’s get this farce over with,” Hatford agreed. “Are you going to give us an address or do we follow a trail of breadcrumbs?”

Andrew grinned at them as he patted the hood of his GS. “You get to follow us. Try to keep up, Frenchie.”

“Sale cochon,” Moreau spat while Hatford continued to grin and Kevin paled.

“That’s getting a bit boring,” Andrew said as he motioned to the others to get into the car. “Care to share with the class?”

“Oh, nothing I’m sure you haven’t heard before and that you’ll be hearing again,” Hatford offered as he went around to the other side of the GT C. “You’re that much of an asshole, after all.”

Kevin was definitely right about him being a mouthy little shit who enjoyed pushing buttons, about him earning some of those scars. Andrew gave him a narrow look before he slid into the back of the GS, nerves already short-firing and stomach clenching from withdrawal.

“So-“

“Shut up and drive,” he ordered Nicky; the sooner they got to Sweeties, the sooner he could have some cracker dust to stave off the crash from pushing back the next dose of his meds.

“Yeah, fun night ahead,” Nicky muttered as he put the car into gear and peeled out of the parking lot; Andrew ignored his cousin’s awful driving with ease and cleared all thoughts out of his mind so he could get a little sleep (and escape from the growing ache inside of him) for the next hour or so.

The feel of something touching him made him lash out even as he pushed past the grogginess and the awful sensation of his limbs being weighed down as if wrapped with lead, and after answering Nicky’s question about which exit to take to get to the restaurant, he made his imbecile of a cousin pull over so he could throw up as the acid churned away in his stomach. Part of him idly noted that the two little birdies didn’t get out of the other car, just sat there on the side of highway, and continued to follow once they were back on the road.

Of course neither Hatford nor Moreau were impressed once they reached Sweeties. “Not as if I’m that well-versed on the things, but this doesn’t look much like a club to me,” Hatford mused as he glanced around the parking lot with a moue of distaste pursing his lips. “Is it a South Carolina thing? I’ve heard the South can be a bit… well, no, I’m going to come out and say it – _backwards_ about things. This looks very backwards to me.”

Andrew could tell that Aaron was trying his damndest to not be impressed just then. “Does he just spout whatever fucking insult comes to mind or what?” his brother asked Kevin, who appeared to be in a bit of pain just then, while even as Moreau sighed he seemed to agree with Hatford.

“ _Yes_ ,” Kevin wheezed as he covered his eyes with his left hand. “It’s like… no filter.”

“It’s called a _spine_ ,” Hatford shot back. “Oh, wait, you wouldn’t know about that, would you, number _two_?”

Kevin dropped his hand to glare at Hatford and spit out something in Japanese, something that had Moreau stand side by side with Hatford and glare as well, while Nicky hissed ‘catfight’. It was all so amusing, except that Andrew was ready to dry heave on all of their shoes and didn’t allow anyone other than him to tear into Day. “Oi, birdies,” he called out as he clapped his hands together. “Shut the fuck up before I pluck some feathers.”

That made Kevin fall silent and Moreau turn his dark look Andrew’s way, while Hatford merely laughed. “Someone has a high opinion of himself, don’t they?”

Despite the nausea, the growing itch beneath his skin and the awful pounding in his head, Andrew managed to pull his lips back in a mockery of a smile. “Enough to curb Riko.” To keep at bay the bastard who’d carved up these two little birdies.

For some reason that made Hatford laugh even more and say something in French to Moreau, who shook his head and huffed. “Come, let’s to see what’s so important about this hovel, ombré de mon ombré,” Hatford called out while heading toward Sweeties. “At least we’re up on our shots and can burn these clothes after tonight.”

“It’s not a hovel!” Nicky shouted after them, outrage radiating from his entire being while a tiny smile hovered on Aaron’s lips.

Stumbling a little as he followed everyone into the restaurant, Andrew gave Kevin a flat look. “What did he say just now?”

The fact that Kevin hesitated let Andrew know that he’d enjoy it when they got to the club in a short while. “That you were nothing but an amateur monster at best, a tabby kitten among tigers.”

Well, someone would soon see Andrew’s claws.

Hatford gave yet another scornful look once inside the restaurant, and didn’t blink at all when Andrew snatched up a handful of crackers from the salad bar or at him shoving them into the host’s apron when they were sat at a large booth. It was almost amusing to see who ended up sitting next to Nicky – Hatford and Moreau both wanted the spot, obviously to keep the other from being stuck next to the lecher, but Moreau won out in the end after leaning down to murmur something in Hatford’s right ear.

They both ordered water and, oh how surprising (how boring), refused to order anything to eat – especially ice cream.

“Already ate,” Hatford replied as he dropped the menu onto the table. “Besides, I’m not a fan of hepatitis.”

“Hey! This is a perfectly fine place!” Nicky insisted, his usually cheerful manner worn down by the insults to one of his favorite places – that and somewhere he once worked.

Moreau sneered as well. “Everything here is atrocious.” He gazed at Kevin with disappointment. “Really?”

Kevin shifted about on the padded bench as if uncomfortable. “The salmon or chicken breast isn’t too bad.”

“Terrible,” Moreau insisted, while Nicky groaned.

“No, not another one. You gotta live a little! The ice cream here is amazing.”

“How sad, we’re both lactose intolerant,” Hatford told him with a wide grin. “We’ll just stick with our waters.”

Andrew caught the kid’s gaze and held it, which made Hatford’s smile widen just a notch. He knew that if he or Nicky pushed that Hatford would keep lying, would come up with reasons not to eat anything, which was fine – he would let the little birdie win this round. Besides, it was clear from what he’d seen in the locker room that the two followed the Ravens’ strict diet from their lean physiques with the lack of body fat; it had taken weeks before Kevin had loosened up a tiny bit.

No, let them think they were so clever, that they could pull one over on Andrew, and then find out otherwise at the club.

The server, Tony, finally arrived with their drinks and a stack of napkins – as soon as he left with their orders, Andrew flipped back the stack to reveal the packets of cracker dust and grabbed a couple to take right then to help with the med withdrawal. He ignored Nicky’s admonishment to be careful as he ripped off the tops and dumped the contents into his mouth, and it was only when he lowered his head that he bothered to pay any attention to the two birdies. Moreau was unhappy, poor thing, while Hatford sat there with his chin propped up on his left hand and watched on with interest.

“E? Meth? K? Not the best way to take some of them, I understand, but….” He sounded more curious than anything.

“No, cracker dust,” Andrew told him after licking his teeth clean.

“Ah, haven’t heard of it.” Hatford cocked his head to the side and watched Aaron swipe away the rest of them. “Won’t that be a problem with the mandatory drug tests?” Again, he sounded more curious than anything, while Moreau was once more giving Kevin a disappointed look.

“It’s not addictive, just gives a little bit of a buzz,” Nicky explained as he glanced back and forth between Hatford and Andrew.

“How clever.” Hatford glanced around the place and seemed to pay attention to the salad bar, to the people stopping by it to grab the crackers before going to their table. “Not just a hovel but a drug den, how wonderful.”

“Please stop using that word,” Nicky whined as he rubbed at his forehead; meanwhile Andrew gave his cousin a flat look while he waited for the cracker dust to kick in.

Hatford and Moreau left their waters untouched after that, which was more than fine with Andrew; the thirstier they were when they reached the club, the better. Now that the lack of meds wasn’t acting like tiny, darting flies whirling around him to interrupt his concentration, he could notice all the little glances and minute gestures that Moreau and Hatford shared between each other as if in a constant communication, the way that they were always gazing around them – especially Hatford.

They were the signs of people used to danger, used to needing to react to it somehow – to defuse it, to defend themselves, to fight or protect or run. They were also used to relying upon each other.

Andrew had looked up the nicknames they called each other – shadow and fire. He had to wonder if Hatford burned and Moreau hid away as part of that reliance; Hatford drew the attention with his defiance and smart mouth to allow the less valuable Moreau to… to what? To get away? To remain safe?

Something about that unsettled Andrew, hit a little too close to home. So he wanted answers, wanted things explained and all doubts gone. Wanted to prove to himself that these two were just pawns in Riko’s fucked-up game.

As soon as he finished his ice cream, he motioned for everyone to leave the restaurant. “Oh, on to the next dump?” Hatford asked with a bright smile.

“Perhaps we can stop someplace first so we can pick up some roach spray,” Moreau muttered as he tugged at the sleeves of his silk shirt.

Aaron glanced at them before he gazed at Kevin with a contemplative look. “How come they turned out like that and you like... this?” he asked as he gestured to the striker while grimacing.

“Fuck you.” Kevin gave him the finger before he glared at the other two Ravens. “You’re being assholes, too.”

“We learned from the best!” Hatford sang out in a blatantly sweet manner.

Riko’s lackeys or not, Andrew had to admit to a small bit of amusement at watching how easily Hatford could get beneath Kevin’s skin. Kevin’s and Nicky’s, as the kid once more was unimpressed when they reached Eden’s Twilight.

“You called it,” he told Moreau as they stood in the crowded parking lot. “Should have gotten the roach spray.”

“I’m beginning to wonder about flea dips as well.” Moreau shuddered as a couple in black leather and chains walked ahead of them.

“Oh my god,” Nicky all but shrieked while he jerked his right hand through his formerly styled hair. “What is with the two of you?”

“Let’s see – hygiene, standards, an unwillingness to deal with people who think gravy is a basic food group, do I need to go on?” Hatford asked as he rocked up and down on his toes with his arms crossed behind his back; at the moment he looked all of fourteen or fifteen years old, which went a good way to defusing Nicky’s anger – at least until the meaning of his words sank in. Andrew suspected that the little shit was an expert at things like that, of purposely knocking people off their mental balance to his advantage.

“ _A shame you’re going to fuck him up_ ,” Aaron murmured in German to Andrew. “ _He’s almost decent_.”

No, no shame at all, especially if Aaron thought he found another buddy in snark or whatever. “Tick-tock, birdies. I didn’t bring you here to stand out in a parking lot.” Andrew motioned to the front of the club. “Inside we go.”

“How is Nathaniel going to get inside of there?” Moreau asked as he pressed a hand against the small of Hatford’s back.

“It’s covered,” Nicky said, seeming to be over his little fit from before. “We used to work here.”

There was another shared look between the two birdies, which Andrew decided to ignore for the moment. All that mattered was getting inside and reaching Roland, who had his little surprise all lined up.

As expected for a Friday night, the club was crowded; it helped knowing the bouncers not only to get a clearly under-aged Hatford inside but to cut to the front of the long line outside. Moreau made sure to stick close to Hatford to prevent the small backliner from being swallowed up by the crowd, and Andrew was right about the two Ravens drawing attention with their looks – he didn’t think it was because people recognized them as Exy players. They left Nicky, Kevin and Aaron to stand guard at a table they managed to find empty, but the two little birdies followed Andrew to the bar, by which time Moreau had shoved more than a couple of handsy people aside.

“Back so soon?” Roland called out once he spotted Andrew and came over, dressed in a black t-shirt bearing the club’s logo on the left breast and a welcoming smile. “Who are these two?”

“Just some wayward birds who followed me in,” Andrew told the bartender while giving him a slight nod. “Give me a round of the usual.”

“I can do that.” Roland turned that killer grin on to Hatford. “What about you?”

“We don’t drink,” Hatford said, right on cue. “So two sodas.”

“All right, two sodas. Any preference?” When Hatford shook his head, Roland shrugged and got busy on putting together the order while Andrew turned to face the two Ravens.

“Did you really bring us here to watch the four of you get drunk?” Hatford asked, his voice pitched to be heard over the loud music of the club. “We’ve already seen that happen with Kevin enough times.”

Andrew shrugged as he leaned back against the bar. “No, this is where you learn that if you want to stay here and be a Fox that there’s one simple rule – you do whatever I tell you to do.”

Hatford scoffed at that while Moreau frowned, which seemed to be his default expression. “I don’t think so,” Hatford said with that sharp smile of his. “We had eight years of jumping when someone told us to jump – well, more or less – and that’s enough. You don’t _own_ us.”

“I don’t have to own you.” Andrew cocked his head to the side as he studied Hatford. “But I’ll break you if you don’t do what I say, it’s as simple as that.”

Once again, the little shit laughed. “Just what _are_ those meds you’re on?” Then he cocked his head to the side as well. “Or should be on, should I say?” Before Andrew could respond, he shook his head. “Either way, you only _think_ you can break me. Far worse than you have tried and failed.”

“You make that sound like a challenge,” Andrew pointed out as he tapped the fingers of his right hand against the pack of cigarettes in his pocket. “Basically waving a red flag in front of me and daring me to charge.”

“Only because there’s a brick wall behind that flag.” Hatford’s smile took on a cruel edge. “Go ahead, I can’t wait to see you crash and burn.”

Andrew stared at him for a few seconds, at the menace in that grin and the lack of fear in those blue eyes – he wasn’t used to people acting this way with him, not when they knew what he was, when they’d heard the stories and everything else. “You don’t add up.”

“What a shame, me not being a math problem at all.” Beside him, Moreau muttered something in French which made Hatford scoff.

It was around then that Roland returned with their drinks, to which Andrew paid him with a generous tip for his ‘help’. “I’ll figure you out all the same,” Andrew swore.

“Good luck with that.”

Oh, Andrew had more than luck on his side.

They returned to the table where Aaron had managed to grab enough chairs for everyone, and Hatford once again watched on in fascination when Aaron pulled out the packets of cracker dust for the four of them to consume along with a shot or two of alcohol. Moreau, who appeared to be on guard near his younger partner, muttered something which sounded awfully disapproving (how sad) in French while Hatford poured their sodas into the glasses which Roland had so thoughtfully provided.

The little shit was the first one to drink, and Andrew tossed back his second shot of cracker dust enhanced whiskey as he watched. At first nothing happened, Hatford just appeared thirsty and eager to drink something while Moreau gazed about the club as if looking for something or making sure everything was all right, and then there was a slight narrowing of those striking pale blue eyes. Hatford’s lips pursed as well, the full lower one jutting out a little, and then he glared at Andrew.

“Really? Spiked drinks? You couldn’t come up with anything better than that?”

When Moreau swore and made to move away from the table, his left arm wrapped around Hatford’s waist to pull him along, Aaron and Nicky were there to block his escape route while Andrew closed in on Hatford. “Why not? It works and gets me what I want, which is answers, so the two of you are going to drink them.” A sliver of a smile twisted his lips as he grabbed onto the kid’s jaw. “I told you that you’d do what I want.”

For a moment it looked as if Hatford would spit in his face while Moreau cursed in three different languages and struggled to free himself from Aaron and Nicky. Then Hatford smiled, the too-cruel one from before, and moved with that incredible speed he’d shown on the court to dump the rest of his soda in the glass meant for Moreau before he snatched it up to drink it all down.

“Nat, non,” Moreau gasped while the others stared on in surprise, even Andrew taken a bit aback at the idiot’s sacrifice before he internally shrugged – all that mattered in the end was that he got the answers he wanted, and Hatford was good enough as the source. Perhaps more than good enough, as he was the one with the family connections.

The little shit threw the glass across the table when it was empty, which made Kevin swear as he barely ducked out of its way. “An’ I tol’… told you that you’d fail.” A double dose of the drugs was potent enough that someone Hatford’s size had to be feeling them fast, which meant that Andrew didn’t have to wait long to start with the questions.

“Take Moreau, keep him occupied,” he ordered Nicky, unwilling to be distracted for the near future. However, that statement made the Frenchman start fighting in earnest, and all of a sudden Hatford lashed out to not only swipe his left hand at Andrew’s eyes but to use his other hand to flip up the tray with its remaining drinks.

Kevin and Aaron yelled as they were splashed by the alcohol, some of it even hitting Andrew on the left side, while Nicky was distracted enough that Moreau got loose – Moreau and Hatford. A rare rage filled Andrew at the sight of the two Ravens stumbling into the crowd, Moreau hampered by dragging along his slight partner, with Nicky in pursuit; it wasn’t often that so much anger could work its way past the medication. “I’m going to enjoy beating the truth out of them,” he said in an even tone as he stepped away from the table.

“Andrew, no!” Reeking of alcohol and even dripping it a bit, Kevin fell in step beside him. “I told you, Nate’s like that! He won’t stand for Jean to be threatened.”

Well, Jean certainly was in trouble now, wasn’t he? Coming to the edge of the raised platform where the bar tables were set and where people could look out onto the dance floor, Andrew could see that their two troublesome Ravens had fled onto the crowded dance floor thanks to Moreau’s height and Hatford’s bright hair. Nicky wasn’t too far behind them and should be able to catch up before Moreau made it to the exit doors.

About to head to the nearby steps, Andrew stopped when two figures, one stocky and of average height, another taller and with a build to rival any of the club’s bouncers, intercepted Moreau and Hatford. At first Andrew thought that they were trying to take advantage of the situation, but Moreau was too quick to hand over Hatford, his hands busy flying through the air as if explaining something. It was right about then that Nicky caught up to them.

The taller of the two men grabbed onto Nicky’s right shoulder while his right arm pulled back in an obvious gesture which had Andrew scrambling for the steps, his mind calculating how far away his cousin was and how long it would take him to get there, if there had been any bouncers around to help and – fuck. _Fuck_. He shoved people away without a care for how they fell or slammed into others, his mind going back to that night in the parking lot, to the sight of Nicky bloody and beaten on the asphalt. That wasn’t happening again, that was never happening again. He had his knives now, Renee’s knives, and he’d cut-

Nicky was still standing when he finally got to the edge of the dance floor, his face covered with sweat and eyes wide. “Andrew? Is… are you all right?” Behind Andrew were people yelling and cursing, was Kevin breathing heavily but Nicky was standing there without any visible bruises on him.

“What the hell just happened?” Andrew felt as if the world was off-balanced somehow, felt his heartbeat racing and yet an odd lethargy at the same time. “Did that guy hit you?”

“No! Oh god, I thought he was going to, did you see that?” Nicky stumbled back until he hit the black-painted concrete block wall behind him. “I almost had them, I did! And then these guys showed up, I think they were friends of Jean because he told them to leave me alone.” Nicky began to laugh, the sound nervous and too high-pitched. “Oh god, I thought he was going to break my face or something, he was _huge_.”

“Who were they?” Andrew waited a couple of seconds before he kicked at Nicky’s feet. “Who were they?”

“I… I don’t know,” Nicky hiccupped as he wrapped his arms around himself. “Jean didn’t say much.”

“Did they have British accents?” Kevin asked, reminding Andrew that he was still there, he’d been focused so much on his cousin.

“Oh. Oh!” Nicky nodded as his dark brown eyes went wide. “Yeah! How’d you know that?”

Kevin winced as he pulled his soaked shirt from his chest. “They work for the Nate’s mother, which means Riko didn’t send them.”

“Are you sure?” Andrew asked, rather displeased with how the night had turned out, all in all.

“Yes,” Kevin sighed as he glanced over his shoulder toward the nearest bar. “Look, I’m not getting into that here, but I’m sure. I told you, Nate never answered to Riko. Him or his uncle.”

Yes, Kevin had, but perhaps there were certain nuances to that statement that Andrew had failed to grasp. Nuances which meant that Andrew had to change how he went about approaching a certain clever little birdie. “Fine then, we’re going to the house.” He needed somewhere quiet to think about things, and he doubted that he’d get his hands on Hatford again that night.

“What? Oh… hell, fine, at least I can wash off there,” Kevin muttered with ill grace as he stomped back to the table.

Meanwhile, Nicky approached Andrew as if uncertain about his mood. “Look… I don’t know what’s going on between you and the new guys, but Jean held back those other two. I don’t think they’re all that bad, him and Nathaniel.”

“If I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it,” Andrew told his cousin. “Let’s go.”

While Nicky joined in on the whole stomping off ahead thing, Andrew pondered pretty, smart-mouthed ravens who didn’t quite add up.

*******

Feeling as if someone had placed a metal band around his head and was slowly tightening it, Nathaniel groaned as he forced his eyes to open, which wasn't one of his best ideas. Since he was long used to giving in to bad impulses and ignoring the consequences, he persevered despite the increasing pain and somehow managed to push his upper body a few inches from the bed with forearms made weak from... oh, yeah, spiked drinks. Memories from last night were slowly coming back to him.

Andrew Minyard was a bastard... but so were most of the people in Nathaniel's life. That probably said something about him, but he was good about ignoring a lot of things.

"Drink this." A bottle of water magically appeared in his vision, in the hand of what one might take to be a sour-faced angel if they didn't know Jean Moreau better. First off, Jean would be appalled to be associated with anything to do with heaven despite the lingering remnants of his Roman Catholic roots (as watered down as they might be), and second, he loved pointing out how much hell had everything to do with their situation.

"I think that's what got me into this mess in the first place," Nathaniel mumbled, his voice cracking due to the dryness of his throat.

"One of these days I'm going to record a nice long discourse of how great a fool you are so I can play it back at moments like these, just to save me the repeated effort," Jean told him with that amazing amount of disdain which only he could pull of - Nathaniel believed it to be a French thing. "I'm not going to bother right now because you reek, so drink this and crawl into the shower before I drown you."

Despite the awful headache and feeling as if his muscles were made of cheap rubber, Nathaniel smiled. "Thank you." Some of his last memories were Jean dragging him through the club and holding onto him in the back of the car.

Some of Jean's gruffness melted away. "I'm used to cleaning up after you by now." He reached into his pocket to pull out a bottle of pain relievers. "Take these, too."

"Yeah, yeah." Jean had already loosened the caps to both bottles, so it didn't take much for Nathaniel to remove them, shake out a couple of pills and swallow them down with most of the water before stumbling into the bathroom while shedding his clothes along the way. The hot water in the shower felt wonderful, and Jean came in after several minutes with a change of clothes.

It was about an hour later when they were eating a rather late breakfast/early lunch when Nathaniel's phone rang. Since he'd already talked to his mother (who hadn't been pleased with the night's events) and Geoff had just dropped off their food, he gave the device a cautious look since not many people had his number. He frowned when he saw that the call was from Wymack.

"Hello?"

"Good, you're still alive," the man said, sounding a little surprised by that fact.

"Always a lovely start to a conversation," Nathaniel pointed out while he poked at his bowl of granola with his spoon. "Is there a reason for this call or do you always do random spot checks on the state of animation of your players? Want me to check Jean's pulse for you? Better yet, can I crack open Minyard's chest to personally see if his heart is still beating? Best to make sure about these things."

There was a pause on the other end for a couple of seconds before the man sighed. "All right, I'm not surprised why you'd joke like that after last night."

"It's not a joke," Nathaniel assured the man as he picked up a blackberry to toss it into his mouth.

"Anyway," Wymack continued, "Andrew is the reason I'm calling. He's decided to camp out in my living room and he's not leaving until I tell him where you're staying. Something about needing to talk to you."

"With or without the drugs?"

There was an impressive string of swearing on the other end of the line, followed by what sounded to be Wymack yelling at Andrew before he remembered to mute the phone. Nathaniel managed to have a few more bites of his meal while Jean shook his head and finished his egg white and spinach omelet before Wymack 'returned'. "Look, I don't know what-"

"No, you don't, which doesn't exactly fill one with much confidence," Nathaniel said, his voice cold as he thought about all those years at Castle Evermore and Tetsuji's refusal to step in to stop Riko, to control his nephew. "But we're not getting into it right now. Tell your goalie that I'll be there soon." Then he hung up the phone.

Jean gave him a blank look at that. "So we're going to deal with the infant terrible once more?"

"No, I am," Nathaniel informed him. Before his boyfriend could argue, he shook his head. "Stay here with Declan while Geoff takes me, I'm not giving him another shot at you." He smiled at Jean, the expression honest and a little sad. "He knows enough to go at you to get to me, so stay here until I figure out what he wants."

It was clear that Jean wasn't happy about the plan, but after about a minute he sighed and reached for his cup of coffee. "I'll give you an hour and then we'll come to get what remains of you."

"Deal," Nathaniel agreed before he hurried to finish his meal while he texted Geoff about their little excursion.

Needless to say, Geoff was about as pleased with the plan as Jean had been, especially when they pulled up to David Wymack's apartment building and he noticed how empty the parking lot was even on a Saturday afternoon. "What is this place?"

"Supposedly it was built with the expectation that people would be attracted to live here because of the Exy and other sports teams, but that hasn't happened yet," Nathaniel explained. "I'm sure you can get a great deal on the rent."

" _I'm_ sure we could hide a few bodies in barrels in there," Geoff muttered, as ever the practical one. "Doesn't mean I'm gonna rush to sign a contract."

"Well, check to make sure the elevators work first. Be a shame to have to lug those barrels up the stairs."

"You ain't right," Geoff informed him, but he was smiling all the same.

"What else is new?" They were quiet until they reached the seventh floor, with Geoff choosing to wait in the hallway while Nathaniel knocked on Wymack's door.

The man answered it dressed in a ratty t-shirt and cut-off jeans, unshaven and hair flattened as if he hadn't bothered to comb it after waking up. He didn't look anything like Nathaniel's father or Tetsuji, but Nathaniel remained out of reach just the same. "Come on in." He frowned at Geoff but didn't say anything. "He a friend?"

"Something like that."

Wymack's dark eyes narrowed, but all he did was grunt and step out of the way enough so Nathaniel could enter the apartment. Nathaniel took in the worn recliner and couch covered with a faded blanket, the end table littered with an ash tray and empty bottles, and the coffee table covered in Exy magazines, another ash tray and take-out containers before he arched his left eyebrow. "So much for that myth about college coaches earning the big bucks, right? They mistake you for a measly philosophy professor or something?"

There was a loud scoffing sound from the area of the kitchen while Wymack took to rubbing his forehead. "And you told me not to harm a hair on his mouthy little head," Minyard declared from where he was leaning against the counter overlooking the living area. "I personally think he'd be vastly improved with a broken jaw."

"For the last time, _no_ ," Wymack said, his low voice coming out in a rough bark which made Nathaniel take an instinctual step back - both the coach and Minyard noticed that, dammit. "I told you to play nice, remember? Just talking, the both of you, or get your asses out of here."

Minyard stood up straight with his hands held up in the air. "Scout's honor, Coach."

It was Nathaniel's turn to scoff. "You were never a scout."

"You sound so certain of that." Andrew gave him an even look as he came into the living room with his hands shoved into his pockets, his gaze sharp and steps lazy. "Time to go fold your socks or surf some porn, Coach."

Wymack shook his head as he folded his arms over his chest. "I'm not leaving the two of you alone, that's a recipe for disaster."

"Too bad, because the little birdy and I need to have a heart to heart talk," Andrew told with a wide grin. "What are you worried about? He handled himself just fine last night."

"I don't consider being dru-"

"It's fine," Nathaniel told the man. "He's right, we need this settled if this is going to work out." He managed a bright, too wide grin of his own. "We promise not to bleed out on your rugs, that's just rude."

"Why do I keep doing this to myself?" Wymack asked as he took to rubbing the back of his neck, but after one more stern look at both of them, he sighed and began walking away. "I hear you fighting, I'm coming out here to smack down first and ask questions later."

Minyard rolled his eyes at that while he lit a cigarette, and waited for the man to head into what was either a bedroom or an office before he blew out a plume of smoke. "So, a little birdy with minders. They here to watch over you or watch out for you?"

Nathaniel scowled at that and glanced back at the closed door where Wymack had gone, torn between telling Minyard to fuck off and the need to make things work out with the lunatic. He was there for a reason, after all, was at Palmetto State with a purpose - something he remembered each time he looked at Jean, each time he moved his jaw and felt the tug of the healing skin on his left cheek.

So he forced himself to take a deep breath as he looked Minyard in hazel eyes bearing a drug-induced manic gleam before he spoke in German, and felt a small amount of satisfaction at the way that the other teen started the tiniest bit. " _How do I make you believe that I'm not lying_?"

Those eyes narrowed as Minyard had another puff of his cigarette. "How do you know German?"

"Two players at the Nest," Nathaniel told him. "I helped them with their English and picked it up as a result." He tilted his head to the side. "How do you know it?"

"Nicky," Minyard said as he continued to eye Nathaniel as if he was an unexpected creature which had just appeared in front of him. "He spent some time there, and it made sense to take a language which he could help out with the homework."

"Ah." Still tired from night before, Nathaniel leaned against the wall. "So, this isn't that bad, is it?"

"You didn't answer my previous question."

Someone was stubborn. "Look... why are you bothering when you don't trust me?" he asked. "You made it clear last night. So what's the point to all of this?"

For a moment, something flashed across Minyard's face before it settled into a blank masked. "You have one chance to tell me why you're here, why I should allow you around Kevin. So start talking or you won't see him on court outside of group practices."

"That's-!" Nathaniel bit back on yelling out a curse and barely resisted swinging at the stubborn, possessive bastard upon hearing that, upon the thought of losing the chance at working with Kevin and dragging the Foxes into something that could stand up to the Ravens - hell, into the rest of the Class I division, come fall. "And what does Kevin have to say about that?"

The question got him a face full of smoke. "Kevin does whatever I tell him to do or don't do," Minyard told him with a slight smirk.

Yeah, that sounded like the spineless jerk, Nathaniel thought as he waved a hand in the air. "If you think I'm such a threat to him, why even give me a chance to tell you my side of things?"

That wiped away the smirk and made Minyard stare off at nothing. "Because you don't add up," he said after a couple of puffs. His gaze once more on Nathaniel, he jabbed the cigarette in his direction. "So here's your chance to make some sense."

"That might be a problem." Nathaniel smiled when those almost golden eyes narrowed. "But I'll try." Then the smile faded as he ran his fingers over the burn on his cheek. " _How much has Kevin told you about the Moriyamas_?" It had to be a good bit to make Minyard act so protective and paranoid.

" _I know about the main branch and how Riko's a jealous, useless shit_ ," Minyard said after a moment's hesitation. " _About how Kengo uses Castle Evermore as a front and everything_." He paused again. " _I know your family works for them_."

Nathaniel laughed at that, the sound harsh and brief. " _You think you do, you mean. My father_ ," oh how he hated that word, " _takes cares of things on the East Coast, a glorified henchman, while my mother's family handle... well, let's just say they are more than mere brute force. They also work more directly with the main branch_." That was leaving out a lot, but Minyard wasn't involved with the Moriyamas so he didn't need to know more than that. He shouldn't even know as much as he did, but Kevin had to open his fool mouth, hadn't he?

Andrew grunted as he flicked the remains of his cigarette more or less toward one of the ashtrays. " _I don't see how all of this matters, little birdy_."

Seriously, couldn't he just call in Geoff to take care of this? Did they really need Minyard in the goal? Unfortunately, Nathaniel knew the answer to that and so forced himself to take a deep breath and push past the anger. " _Because due to my mother's quick thinking, I fall under the main branch. And since the Hatfords work so closely with Kengo... well, maybe all of five people know about this, but Kengo_?" Nathaniel bared his teeth at the blank-faced bastard standing in front of him. " _Kengo isn't doing so well. Which is why I don't fall so much under him, but Ichirou_." He didn't say anything after that but chose to see if Minyard was clever enough to put the pieces together.

The other teen went as if to light another cigarette then stopped and chose to tap his fingers against his pocket instead, his expression now thoughtful. " _You're loyal, that much is evident after watching you and Moreau. The language thing is a bonus. I'm sure Ichirou would have plenty of uses for someone like you._ " He gave Nathaniel a pointed look as if waiting for an answer, but Nathaniel had already revealed more than enough. " _How much longer_?"

" _Maybe a year_ ," Nathaniel admitted. " _It's getting progressively worse. Tetsuji will probably find out soon enough_."

" _A year_." Minyard grew thoughtful again. " _And you and Moreau just so happen to transfer before then_." He stepped closer to Nathaniel, who didn't move. " _Tell me that you're not here for Kevin, not here to take him back to Evermore_."

" _The last thing I want is to take him back there_ ," Nathaniel swore. " _But I do need him - need him to take down the Ravens_ ," he was quick to add.

" _Ichirou doesn't want to share his throne with his brother_ ," Minyard surmised.

" _Would you_?" Nathaniel smiled at the scowl directed his way. " _I think it's safe to say that we want much the same thing. We don't have to like each other, but I swear to you, I'm not here to harm Kevin, and I'm only here because of Riko to put an end to him._ "

Andrew seemed to consider everything that Nathaniel had said for a minute or two, his full lips pursed and gaze assessing, before he nodded once. " _I'll be watching you, and if I suspect for a moment that this is a trick then you'll be gone_."

Nathaniel didn't allow himself to relax in the slightest. " _It's not, but I won't bother to argue the point anymore - I'd have taken Jean farther from Riko's reach if we were just running away, but we're ending him. It's in your best interest to seeing that through._ "

A slight sneer curled Andrew's mouth. " _Such a good little lackey_."

" _Being good has nothing to do with it_ ," Nathaniel shot back. " _But I'm not aimed at you or any of the Foxes_."

" _That best not change_ ," Andrew warned. " _As long as Riko's your target, then I've no problem with you_." He seemed to think about something for a couple of seconds. "You'll work out well as a distraction for Kevin, give him something to latch on to and stop freaking out about that prick, so fine, you and the Frenchie can stay - as long as you keep the Moriyama shit away from me and mine."

" _You involved them in it when you took on Kevin_ ," Nathaniel had to point out, but he shrugged when the bastard's eyes when flat. " _They won't be bothered by it on my end_."

" _Fine_ ," Andrew echoed. " _Kevin will be overjoyed that he gets his way with you at last_."

For a moment, Nathaniel considered grabbing Jean and making a run for it, well familiar with an obsessive Kevin. "Yay. Maybe you should consider me a threat after all," he said in English.

"Too late, he's your problem now. This may work out better for me than I expected - Kevin occupied and you too busy to cause any problems. How nice." A mocking grin tugged at the corners of Andrew's mouth as he gave Nathaniel a two fingered salute. "Hey, Coach," he called out, "you owe me! One rookie left alive and well for once." That said, he turned around to leave.

Wymack came out of the other room with an incredulous expression on his face. "What the - are you all right?" he asked Nathaniel as the front door closed behind Andrew. "Everything okay?"

Other than Nathaniel having to suffer with Kevin from now on, and still left with bringing down Riko and Tetsuji. "I'm fine," he told the man as he headed for the door as well. "Nothing to worry about."

Wymack gave him a searching look before glancing back the way that Andrew had left. "Huh," he said in a thoughtful manner, which Nathaniel chose to ignore. "Interesting."

Despite himself, Nathaniel had to agree - Andrew Wymack was indeed proving to be rather interesting. A pain in the ass, but interesting.

However, all Nathaniel would have to do was keep his distance from the older teen and his family, work hard at earning his spot on the team and placate Kevin, and there would be little reason for them to interact. It wasn't like they had much in common, anyway. They’d never be friends and would only barely tolerate each other for the sake of Kevin and being teammates.

In the end, Nathanial was only at Palmetto State to play Exy and get a job done, nothing else.

*******

**Author's Note:**

> *******  
> One thing if you read it in the zine - I sorta left it open if it was Neil/Jean (Jeil? lol, sassbaguette), and it can definitely be pre-Andreil with the way Andrew's obsessing over our sassy redhead. It's still not explicit here, but yes, it's Neil/Jean and I do want to write more of this, I'm thinking this one leaves it wide open for an OMFG Jean/Neil/Andrew.
> 
> So, next week will be dragon!Andrew!!!!
> 
> As always, the comments and kudos and [coffee](https://ko-fi.com/nekojitachan) are greatly appreciated.


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